


Ideas For The Taking

by Polar_Attraction



Series: Collection Works [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Background Emotional Manipulation, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Female Bilbo, Female Thorin, Genderbending, Married Couple, Married Dorks, Rule 63, Soul Mates AU, Time Travel Fix-It, ideas, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3497528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polar_Attraction/pseuds/Polar_Attraction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ideas that randomly float in and out of my head, sometimes one-shots, sometimes drabbles, sometimes the beginning or ending of something greater.<br/>Please enjoy.<br/>And steal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Orphanage AU: Near the end

**Author's Note:**

> When they were really young, Sigrid, Tauriel, Kíli, and Fíli got stuck in an orphanage together (oh? Really, Polar? Just all the members of your two OTPs happen to get sent there? Weird). They got really close, and then each got taken into foster homes: They found Sigrid's dad, Tauriel got Thranduil, and the two boys got stuck with Smaug.  
> *Bow* hope you enjoy!

**IT** was nearing sunrise when they finally got on the road. Kíli glanced over at the red-headed bundle in the passenger seat and smiled softly. In less than twenty-four hours, he’d gone from having nothing to lose--to having _her_ to lose. Even after everything Smaug had tried, she’d stayed with him. Trusted him.

And that was everything.

He tore his eyes back to the road, trying to ignore how adorable his sleeping elf was.

The first priority was to get away from Erebor; away from Smaug.

His hands tightened to white around the steering wheel as he thought of the second thing.

He hated admitting he was wrong.

* * *

**TAURIEL** , he discovered, woke in exactly the same way he and Fíli did. She started awake.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, eyes barely leaving the road.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “That was really nice. Where are we?”

“We're getting close to Beorn’s place,” he said. When she looked at him in confusion, he partly turned to stare at her. “You've never been to Beorn’s place?” he asked in shock.

She shook her head.

“It’s the best ‘Bed-and-breakfast you've ever been to!” he crowed. “When I said Thraduil’s place wasn't even near the best, it’s what I was thinking of. The beds are so soft you’d think they were made out of swan down, and they have these scones . . .”

It took him a while to realize that Tauriel was staring at him with soft eyes, an expression not unlike the one Sigrid used to give Fíli. He just smiled back for a moment; but then the road curved, and he had to turn back to it.

Aloud, his thoughts wandered back to his brother. To be honest, part of the reason he was angry when Fíli left to get married was Sigrid. Even though it was unreasonable to think of finding her after eight years of searching the foster care system and phone-books, he'd always wished them a happy end together.

But when he glanced over and realized how sad his fiery girlfriend looked, he quickly changed the subject of his rant.

* * *

**IT** was afternoon before they made it past Beorn’s and into the adjoining town. Carrock stood short but proud against it’s namesake in the town square; a single column of stone that seemed to reach the sky itself. As a kid, Kíli had loved this place.

Now he dreaded it.

Tauriel,  who was unused to the brunet brooding in even the slightest degree, fidgeted slightly. He glanced up at her, and laughed when she told him what was bothering her.

“It’s just . . .” he paused, his eyes lingering over a park he remembered. “I think . . . I think he might be here.”

The fire-hair put a hand on his shoulder, drawing and winning smile from her dwarf. They looked for a place to park, stretched, switched sides, and then Kíli pulled out his phone.

There were more passwords on the number than Tauriel had thought possible, each of them long and possibly convoluted. Or maybe they were just Fíli’s name spelled backwards over and over.

He called.

The phone rung once.

Twice.

A third time.

Kíli sighed; it looked like maybe he wasn't home.

A forth.

*Beep*

_“Hello! This is the residence of Fíli and Sigrid Durinson. Please leave your message at the tone.”_

Kíli pulled the phone away from his ear and stared down at it. _Sigrid_? _Fíli_ and Sigrid? _Durinson_? Smaug had lied to him--again--was that really news?

“Kíli?” Tauriel asked, and when he turned to her, he could see concern.

“F . . .Fine,” he said, forcing a smile. And then he laughed, really and truly, because not only had Fíli left Smaug and burned him for life, he’d left him to get married to Sigrid. Sigrid _Bardson_. Daughter of the man who had all the evidence needed to take down Smaug, who had been killed in an ‘accident,’ who had put back-up copies where only his children would find them. And oh, that had to burn! No wonder he’d been so desperate to keep Kíli. The younger of the two, he'd always get in worse trouble. And if Fíli had married Sigrid?

Well, that meant in order for Kíli to keep that reputation, he'd just have to convince a certain gorgeous daughter of Thranduil to marry him.


	2. Crossover; Martin Freeman Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The basic idea is that John and Bilbo are identical twins.  
> Chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone may notice that I mention female members of the company. (I.E., Thís is short for Thorin, Ori is short for Oriana, etc.) you know how I'm obsessed with Fem!Bilbo?  
> Yeah, this is a different dynamic I'm also a fan of.

“. . . and then there's your sister,” Sherlock said. John raised the eyebrow Sherlock couldn't see.

“What about her?”

“She went through a nasty divorce a few years ago; which is when you got the phone. It's a gift from her wife, not girlfriend. Expense of the phone says so. But a few years old, and never replaced. You're weren't on very good terms with her at the time, though perhaps now you're getting along jolly; she gave you the phone because she wants to keep in touch.

“It's possible you disapproved of her drinking habits, but she stopped. Not sure.”

“How can you possibly know that we get along now?” John interrupted.

“And you know this part; the inscription. I changed my mind, it's your brother. Maybe twin. You didn't like his wife, you can see that you tried to cross her name out several times or at least cover it with something. But his name? No, it's perfectly fine, not touched by anything but the keys you had in your pockets the first few times.

“But your brother, he's interesting. His wife gave him back the phone he got, and instead of keeping it, he throws it to you. No, he was mad about the divorce! Maybe she accused him of cheating, but was the actual culprit. Hm, not sure. Anyway, while he's away from his drinking ex-wife, you're trying to hide the severity of the affect the war had on you, and thus you don't keep in touch.”

John was stuck dumb. The only thing he'd gotten wrong in the end was that Bilbo's wife had a drug problem, not alcohol.

•

“John!” a very cheery voice from downstairs called. John put his head in his hands and groaned, “I'm sorry, Sherlock.”

Sherlock gave him a puzzled stare: it was one of his bored days. “It's your brother, isn't it?”

John nodded. The door to the flat opened, and in stepped . . .

Sherlock's mouth dropped open. “You're identical?”

“Ah, you must be Sherlock!” It was going to be a very long day.

•

“It's official;” Bilbo said calmly, handing Sherlock a small, stalky piece of paper. “I'm a dating site. If my exes want a perfect match, they only have to look for my other exes.”

John groaned. “Which ones this time?” he asked as he looked over Sherlock's shoulder. Then, “oh my—”

“Oriana and Dwalin.”

“Ori and—my goodness. Am I going to have to choose which one to kill?”

•

“What do you mean you're back with Thorin?” John nearly yelled.

Bilbo winced and adjusted his collar. “Thís is wonderful.”

“What's wrong with Thorin—or Thís—whatever her name is?” Sherlock asked.

“Look, John, I know you're mad about the camping trip . . .”

“No, I'm livid about the camping trip.”

“What camping trip?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it!! Again, please please Please DO steal this. Even if it's just a tiny side-idea you got from it.


	3. Grieving for someone you hardly knew through letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A soul-mate AU no one asked for. Reason for the Angst Tag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pirate AU coming soon; two or three days at most.
> 
> And yes, you can change anything in the ideas. Anything. Including ignoring my idea for reincarnation and the sadness of it.

Soulmate's were supposed to stand by you forever; never leave your side. How ironic that she'd barely even met him before he left, and then they barely talked after that; then he died

She supposed she should thank Azog for that. He was still up and kicking, and though she felt the need for revenge, it was nothing compared to her Soulmate's uncle. He was wracked with anger and hatred and grief; once again, Azog had taken a precious relative from him. At least he hadn't taken Bella. Bella, who quickly warmed up to Sigrid and helped her let go of her brother.

Bain wasn't supposed to die; but then again, neither was Fíli.

She focused on healing others, and Bella and Tauriel would bring her food. They would talk about their respective dwarves, and Sigrid would smile and speculate which habits had been picked up from Fíli and vice-versa. Occasionally, she'd share her thoughts with her two friends. That would lead to a wonderful discussion. Once they realized that she wasn't too sensitive about the topic, that is.

They would talk for hours and hours about dwarven culture and what one was supposed to do, in this situation, in that situation, in every situation in-between; there was even a book titled, 'the proper lack of etiquette'. She wondered if he'd read it.

Then.

They found the letters.

She had no idea how he knew she was his soul-mate; he hadn't looked at his soul-stone. But he wrote them all to her.

She nursed them for any detail that could possibly come forth, learning every scrap of knowledge it bestowed upon her. She learned of his childhood, of his love for growing things and his hatred of apples. She learned why he hated them (they were so poor they had to eat apples every day). He told her of some very memorable pranks he'd performed and many valuable lessons he recalled. And he'd always say something specific about her that he'd learned or realized, and promised he'd try to say goodbye in person.

She saved them; a letter per day. And she cried every day because of them. Her Fíli was not there; he was beyond her grasp forever.

_(Continues in Pirate AU)?_


	4. Fígrid Pirate AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pirates and reincarnation. Inspired by Fígrid week prompts.  
> Possible follow-up to the last chapter (if you want it to be).

She woke to a horrible ache.

Her back ached. Her bones ached. Gold, even her HAIR ached: she wasn't sure how she'd managed that.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking when they were finally open.

She wanted nothin' more than to go back to sleep. But despite the hurt, she didn't have a drop of fatigue in her body. Her legs demanded exercise. Her arms screamed to move. Both of her sides wanted to be rolled onto, though the left one was more stubborn. Her hand really wanted to hold a sword; or maybe the handle of a bucket, even some leaves would be fine!

She clutched at the blankets, silencing her hands. Rolled onto her right side, then her left. Swung her legs over the side and used her elbow to sit up, then stretched her arms above her head.

By now she knew what the stretch confirmed; the hurt all over was not caused by sore muscles, but did no better to explain her need to move.

She'd been whipped.

She brought down her arms and studied them, wondering how she could have missed the long marks. Granted, they looked mostly healed; but mistaking them for sore muscles? She shook her head. She was out of practice.

She stood slowly. Everything continued to ache, though it was steady and not severe. She was mostly healed, and the worst of the damage was on her back.

She discovered a light shift and robe hung near the door, and she quickly stripped out of the filthy, bloody, sweat-bathed ones she currently wore—which were identical to the ones on the hanger—and pulled the clean shift over her head.

The fabric was soft and silky, and she realized it was satin out of a fine cotton. Either her captors liked her well enough to entertain her comfort, or she was no longer a prisoner. One did not give _satin_ to just anyone.

She frowned at the implications.

Slowly, she looked around the cabin. It was as blank as they came, the only ornaments being her bed in a corner and the small table next to it, covered in fresh cloths and new herbs. The floor was strewn with bloody rags.

She'd been more wounded than she'd realized; that meant they'd kept her for much longer than they normally would.

Were they planning to sell her? She took a deep breath and faced the door.

Whatever fate had in store, waiting for it was never a good idea.

She slowly opened it, and was surprised to find it nighttime outside. She opened the door fully and gaped when she realized they were docked.

She'd barely seen a dock in her _entire life_ , and never put a foot on land—much like she'd never seen the sea in her previous one

She focused herself and looked around the deck. It was empty but for a figure leaning against the railing, and she could see the gold of his hair even in he moonlight, and the dreams all came rushing back.

“Fíli?” she whispered.

His head jerked up, one hand on the hilt of his dagger, and she instinctively flinched back. He froze, then relaxed and turned to face her fully.

“I see our guest has awoken,” he said softly, and there was a quality to his smile she'd sorely missed. She smiled back slowly, noticing the scars on his arms that he let show, the braids still in his mustache.

“Thank you for caring for me. What . . . ” she paused, still unsure of why she was here and what was wanted from her. “What happened?”

“We found you; or, rather, you found us, on the ship we were sinking,” he shrugged, and she felt something unpleasant when she realized how little he seemed to care for human life.

Fíli would never act like that in his past life; at least, not about anything sentient. But this Fíli knew nothing of his past life. This Fíli didn't know how to wield an axe.

This Fíli was not to be trusted anymore than she could throw him. And let's be honest, she couldn't throw him an inch to save her life.

“Why am I here?” she snapped.

He blinked at her sudden change in behavior, then smirked. “We need another hand aboard, believe it or not. Thorin hates when _The Hobbit_ gets dirty.”

Sigrid blinked. “The hobbit? He named his ship _The Hobbit_?” She blinked some more, thinking of a certain fiery female burglar, and then she threw back her head and laughed. Fíli laughed with her, and she could've sworn he started to reach for her hand.

“Careful now,” he warned, “the cap'n takes pride in his ship. Calls her Bella sometimes, even in his wife's hearing.

Sigrid snorted. “Is she jealous?”

“Hardly. She kinda' encourages him,” he said with a grin. A grin that had her heart and head spinning. This was _him_. In the flesh. And she was going to work with him, and— Fíli kissed her.

Her eyes widened. Not just at the kiss, but it wasn't at all like she had expected it to be, especially now that he was a pirate. It was a soft, chaste press of lips that's only passion was simply the intimacy of such a gesture.

He pulled back as quickly as he had stepped forward, a grin on his lips. “I'm taller than you now, might as well take advantage o the fact.”

He _knew._

She found herself laughing and grinning, felt her eyes sparkle. “You remember,” she said. This was her Fíli, the one of her dreams and past life. The one who stayed with his brother. The one who left her letters, notes about himself.

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and grinning from ear to ear as he leaned down to once again claim her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steal this. Take this from me!!  
> (Puts on best Edna Mode voice) Oh, and comments and links when you do steal are appreciated, darling.


	5. Which Sets up Perfectly for Tenth Walker Fem!Thorin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, a reason for the angst tag.  
> Again, female Thorin named Thís—but now it's spelled Thíz.  
> Major Character death in this one (again).  
> And again, take any tiny part of it and make it your own! (But I would enjoy you telling me about your work, hmm?)

**T** híz stared out at the peaceful, rolling hills of The Shire. The last time she had been here, she'd lost herself and she would not be that humiliated again. Not that it truly mattered; pride was a flaw. And she had a large amount of it.

With a sigh, the dwarrow-dam started down the path to Bag End. Gold and jewels lay within her pack, but heavier rested the hobbit's belongings. Her heart missed a step at the thought, and tears very nearly sprung to her eyes. She shook her head at herself. No, no she was _not_ going to think about him right now! All she had to do was return everything to his relatives, give them _his_ share of the gold, turn tail, and run back to Erebor.

•

She was _livid_.

He was gone for a year—a measly _year_ —and here they were, bartering off his affects. She was going to whip the smug look off of that female hobbit's face as soon as she could get everything to his cousin Drogo Baggins. If she remembered correctly, he liked him well enough.

One problem.

She had no rights over the stuff.

“Well, the contract seems to be in good order, but it still doesn't hand you his things; certainly not enough to direct where they go!”

For a moment, she huffed and puffed out her chest, trying to think of anything besides a sword that would make him listen.

Inspiration struck.

And thus it was that Mrs. Thíz Baggins, wife of the late Bilbo Baggins, came to reside at Bag End. And only Frodo ever know that she got to call herself a widow on a technicality having to do with Mithril.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Bilbo died, Thíz raised Frodo, and there's no way she's letting him go to Mordor by himself; not after she lost her beloved to a similar madness.
> 
> Have at it.


	6. Baggins and his time-traveling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Bilbo and Fem!Thorin are married for The Hobbit, and time travel is involved.  
> Steal away.

Bilbo woke.

He first felt confusion.  _Where am I? Why do I feel lighter?_ Then he was even more confused. _Why am I so warm?_

The air was cool and crisp, and the blankets were down to his ankles. His sleep clothes were . . . new, but that didn't help with warmth. He was in Bag End; the bedroom was usually pretty cold. None of these things added up to warmth. Then, there was something across his middle.

Wait.

There was an _arm_ draped across his middle, and he quickly followed it with his eyes to the owner; someone to his left.

“Thíz?” he whispered.

His dwarrow-dam wife of ten years lay beside him, curled against him with the tiniest of smiles on her pale face. Her black hair was strewn over her two pillows, most of the gray hidden within.

She had dimples.

Bilbo scrambled into a sitting position and stared down at her. _It can't be Thíz! She . . ._

_She's dead._

And it was getting near the hundredth anniversary, too; Battle of the Five Armies and all that. Yes, last he remembered, he was in— _  
_

Oh.

Bilbo held up a shaking hand.

He was young again.

Then he laughed, long and loud and clear, and could not close the distance between his wife and himself fast enough.

He peppered her face with kisses, on her mouth and cheeks and nose, even along her jawline and up to her ears. He ran his hands through her hair and wrapped his other arm around her as he kissed her chin.

She stirred quickly, blinking softly. “Hello,” she said, her voice deep and rich and thick and so _real_ and _Thíz_ and _everything._

 _“_ Hi,” he said.

“What did I do to deserve such a treatment on this happy morning?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Is it morning?” Bilbo asked, and he looked over his shoulder to the curtained window. “Indeed it is.” Turning back to her, he said, “do I need a reason besides the fact that you're alive?”

She looked surprised and blushed to her hairline. Then, like he'd missed for all those years, she lowered her head and buried it into his chest. “I love you too, you sappy fool,“ she muttered.

“I know,” he whispered.

_Too well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Bagginshield idea/prompt. I'm not over Fem!Thorin yet.  
> Expect more.  
> Anyway, things to jog your thoughts, so that you are more likely to comment with a link to a story, written by you; do you think he'll tell her? What will he do? Why is she in the Shire in the first place? How far do you think he'll go to save his wife? How long is this before the adventure?


	7. She's kicked out of the mountain and she has an apology to make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin.  
> Also, I'm evil.

“You're what!?” Fíli cried. His shout echoed through the hall and all rooms adjoined to it, not to mention the next hallway over and probably all of Erebor.

Thíz sighed internally and rubbed her temples. “I'm giving over the Crown to Daín. He's agreed to hand it over to you when you're older—”

“No,” the golden-haired prince said, “not that part. Daín mentioned something weeks ago.”

Thíz lifted her head and replied, “then what?”

“You said you're leaving Erebor. For Mahal's sake, Thíz, you can't just _leave Erebor_! Not after what you went through to reclaim it!”

His mother's-sister was silent. One side agreed, but the other one knew it was the only way to pull off her plan. Erebor was in political turmoil, with only half of the mountain supporting her rule. If she stayed after Daín's coronation, however, that would be half of the mountain against Daín's rule; no, she had to leave.

She also . . .

“I have to apologize,” she blurted.

Fíli stared at her. “You're going to the Shire,” he said, blankly, as if he couldn't believe it.

Oh _no_. The words, the words she feared, spoken aloud right to her, telling her exactly what she hoped her conscious mind wouldn't comprehend until she was in Bree.

Hang it.

“Fíli,” she said calmly, “you'll need to be strong. I've asked Daín to do . . . do some things that I was unable to. You, and Kíli, and Daín—the entire company, in fact—might be attacked. I would not do this if it were not absolutely necessary.”

There was a pause, but the golden prince finally nodded. “Alright.“

•

Thíz arrived in the Shire a little before four. She was so terrified (though really, what of? It's not like she knew anyone there, most definitely not a particular burglar that may or may not be her best friend ~~and/or stolen her heart~~ ,) that she nearly hit something.

She stopped and looked down at the almost-kicked thing, then leaned down and picked it up by it's arms. Predictively, it squealed and kicked, and then laughed with delight as she set it down and played with it.

He had dark brown hair and very intense blue eyes, and was curious. When his mother finally called him back, he knew far too much about axes and the two swords she carried. It had been all she could do to keep him away from her war history.

She made her way across the Shire. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. And she was considering going back the way she came when she realized how very cowardly she was being.

She squared her shoulders, and marched to Bag End.

When she got there, nearly all her courage deserted her. But she was the _rightful ruler of the Lonely Mountain_ , and hang the title if it didn't inspire courage!

She walked to the door and raised her fist.

**_She holds him by his neck over the battlements. The traitor can die for all she cares!_ **

She froze, hand still poised to knock. Oh _Mahal_ , what had she done to him?

_**“I'm sorry,” she mumbles through the blood that spills over her lips. “I'm so sorry, please please—”** _

_**“Thíz, stop talking!” he cries, and she can see the tears. “Oh, oh where's a wizard when you need one?”** _

She had no right to ask for forgiveness. But it wasn't just her that would suffer if she turned back now.

Taking a deep breath, Thíz knocked on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I was evil. See, this is what happens when no one takes my ideas from me!  
> So yes. Please steal. And tell me about it, so I can stop hanging you over cliffs!!


	8. On Never Trusting First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Bella Baggins. What in the world did Thíz do that had karma deciding to torture her to death?

As Thíz made her way down the road, side-by-side with Gandalf, she couldn't help but notice that all the doors in Hobbiton were closed. Who knew if they were locked or not, but the rest of The Shire seemed to have the door open a crack. So when they approached Bag End, where the door was wide open with light streaming out, she turned and looked at Gandalf, and he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Perhaps out burglar found it too warm, what with all the dwarves.”

Thíz relaxed a bit, but still approached the smial hesitantly.

There was a high screech of “Bella!” and then, from the door, there was a high, feminine cry. A large shape flew out, and it took a moment for Thíz to realize who it was.

“Dwalin!” she cried, and rushed to his side, but he was already getting up.

“It's been a good duel!” The feminine voice said from the doorway. Dwalin was grinning.

“Aye!” he said, “I haven' dueled like tha' since Thíz beat my arse!”

Thíz looked up to see, in the doorway, a female hobbit. She was dressed in ugly brown trousers that stopped just below her knees, a light blue shirt that had surely seen better days, and a red jacket that had so many patches that the left arm had none of the original material.

“Ah,” she said, looking Thíz up and down. “You must be Thíz Oakenshield.”

“I am,” the queen said cooly. She eyed the lass critically; while she had clearly just proven her merits on the battle-field, she doubted the girl could put a foot into Erebor without Smaug noticing. “You seem more like a warrior than a burglar.”

The blond girl's lips quirked upward. “Yup, there would be a reason for that.”

Thíz frowned at her lack of formal tone. If the lass knew she was a queen and companion, surely she would pay due respect?

“My good sir, are you alright?” a slightly panicked voice from behind the hobbit asked. “Oh, Bella, what have you done this time?”

The female stepped aside to reveal a shockingly similar male—blonde, tanned, but totally different in demeanor. This Hobbit wore a crisp white shirt with a gold vest and a very nice red jacket that brought out his blue eyes. His trousers were a almost golden brown.

But it didn't stop there, oh no. Both had the very beginnings of wrinkles, but hers were crow's feet while his were worry-lines. She was obviously confident while he stood in the background. Even though Thíz didn't know the terms, she was seeing one Baggins and one Took, a genetic code split cleanly in half.

“He's the burglar,” the female said. “Thíz, Dwalin, this is my brother, Bilbo Baggins.”

:•—\•/—•:

Thíz was not impressed.

So far Bilbo had threatened not to come at all, fainted, begged his sister to stay home, nearly fainted again, and finally given in to the dominant female's demands.

He was reminding her much more of a housewife than a burglar.

Bella wasn't that great, either; she had demanded, not given in, demanded more, talked without respect for anyone or anything, and challenged Thíz to a duel. She _was_ a good fighter, (thank goodness Thíz beat her) but that was where her qualities ended.

But she had beaten Dwalin.

So on the quest they came.

The only happiness she had in the situation was that Gandalf was just as surprised as she was. When he'd met Bella, she'd seemed like a perfectly respectable hobbit. She agreed to the adventure, but she was part Took!

It turned out she was _all_ Took.

Despite her great lack of respect for him, Thíz found herself defending Bilbo from the other dwarves comments; with a sister like that, no wonder he'd turned out so scared and whitless. Every single moment he could spare was used to contain the rambunctious lass. He saved her from several scrapes that didn't even exist by the end of the day, and the dwarves found, to their surprise, that they had made it _further_ than the originally anticipated.

“Maybe they aren't that bad,” Ori suggested to the other two young dwarves. Fíli looked considering while Kíli looked horrified.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, thankfully in a whisper, “it's a coward and a rebellious tween!”

Thíz thought she'd never heard a more accurate description in her life.

:•—\•/—•:

The Pony Incident changed everything.

Fíli and Kíli decided to test their burglar. Though they assured Thíz, (much later) that they were in control the whole time, she didn't believe them.

Bilbo got back, ponies in tail, long before her nephews realized what had happened.

“Wait,” Thíz said after he explained what had happened, “you got the ponies to be quite and they didn't break a single twig?”

What happened next took a while for the queen to wrap her mind around.

Bilbo smirked.

And then Bella yelled, “You realize you could have been killed!”

“Ah,” he responded, “but I wasn't.”

What ensued boggled all the dwarves minds. It was a normal fight between the two; but Bella was the reasonable one, and Bilbo was the cocky, reckless Took.

“What did we get ourselves into?” Thíz whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha I think I'm funny.
> 
> So, do you think Bilbo did it on his own or did he have the ring? Is he actually competent!? What's Bella doing, and why is she doing it? And were's the romance?
> 
> Only YOU can stop the author from going wildfire mad! Start today! Steal an idea!


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